Of Bow Ties and Leather Jackets
by Lamp Shady
Summary: Deciding on a whim to pop by Earth for a drink, Team TARDIS has a chance encounter with one of the Doctor's old friends.


Summary: Deciding on a whim to pop by Earth for a drink, Team TARDIS has a chance encounter with one of the Doctor's old friends.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, I'm afraid. It belongs to the wonderful folks at the BBC, I'm just borrowing it, and it will be returned in more or less the same shape.

A/N: First off, I would like to thank Arden, my brilliant beta.

This was supposed to be funny, but somehow it turned out all angsty...

Anyway, I'd like to apologize if I got Fitz all wrong. I haven't actually read any of the books, I just know him through fanfics and websites and that one audio play the Company of Friends. But I really like him, so I hope I did a good job.

(The best way to combat OOCness is not to imagine the character saying something, it's to imagine how the character would say it if they did. Nya.)

Okay, enough rambling.

Of Bow Ties And Leather Jackets

It was the Doctor. The Doctor was actually there, and the TARDIS. He looked different, but he was still the Doctor, and he was really there.

Fitz had just been in the pub. He was always in the pub on Fridays; nothing better to on Fridays do then be in the pub. He had been watching a game on the telly as usual when he'd heard it, the whirring of the TARDIS. He'd almost fallen right off his stool. Scared the bartender half to death, and the bloke beside him had thought he was having a heart attack and offered to call an ambulance. Fitz hadn't bothered to answer, though. He was out the door running before the man even finished his sentence. Half the customers probably thought he was mad by now.

But he didn't care, because it really was the Doctor. The Doctor was alive, and he knew it wasn't just a Doctor of the past because when he'd come skidding to a halt in front of him the Doctor had choked out Fitz's name.

It was the Doctor. The most amazing, impossible person in the universe, the most important person in Fitz's life, and the person he had spent the best years of his life with. The person that had shown Fitz all the wonders of Time and space, the only person that had _noticed_ him, the only person he could ever love so much. The person that Fitz had believed dead for so long. Standing right in front of him. And all he could think to say was;

"You're wearing a bow tie."

Yep. That was it. If he had ever imagined this very moment, ever allowed himself to imagine it, that was not what he would have imagined himself saying. Not even close. The bloke and the bird that had followed the Doctor out of the TARDIS shared an amused look, but kept quiet. After a moment or two of standing there looking shell-shocked, the Doctor said, with a perfectly straight face, "Bow ties are cool."

Fitz didn't quite know what to say to that. Well, he did. In fact he had an arsenal of retorts he could of made about the stupidity of bow ties. He just didn't quite know how to say them, or anything else for that matter.

When the silence got so thick and unbearable and he felt just about ready to snap – what exactly 'snapping' entailed he didn't know, but he did know it wouldn't be pretty – the girl spoke up. "Doctor," she said. Fitz thanked her a thousand times in his head. "Are you going to introduce us?"

Shaking his head as if to break out of a trance, the Doctor struck a finger up in the air. "Right! Fitz, meet Amy and Rory Williams. Or Pond. I don't know, still a bit confused about that one." He was twisting and bouncing slightly as he spoke. It was a bit distracting. "Amy, Rory, meet Fitz Kreiner, one of my old traveling companions." Fitz had to resist a snort at that. 'Traveling companion'? Was this is watered-down kiddie version or something?

Rory waved, briskly shook his hand, and said that it was nice to meet him. Amy flicked her hair, sticking a hand out for him as well, grinning. "You traveled with him when he had a whole different face and everything, yeah?" _And everything_. The Doctor was taller, and his soft flyaway hair was now cut and... floppy, for lack of a better word. His eyes were a different colour. He somehow managed to look younger and older at the same time. Even the TARDIS was different; a deeper blue, less shabby, and there was a little sign on the door that hadn't been there before.

Fitz didn't reply. Just nodded and let her shake his hand. Then his stomach rolled over and all colour drained from his face as he realized that this was probably just a dream. Wouldn't be the first time he'd had a dream of this sort. Soon he would wake up in his bed and get dressed and go to work, just like any other day, only a bit more depressing. Or – God forbid – he'd wake up on the floor of the pub with blurred faces looming over him à la _Wizard of Oz_. Wouldn't be the first time for that, either.

He snapped back to reality to see that everyone was staring at him and he was clutching onto Amy's hand with a death grip. Fitz quickly pulled his hand back, mumbling an apology, and discreetly pinched himself. He didn't wake up. So far so good. But just to make sure; "I'm not dreaming, am I?" he asked. He knew it was stupid to ask. If he _was_ dreaming, his dream could just lie to him. And yet...

The Doctor gave him a soft smile. A smile so like the one he would always see on His Doctor. "No, you're not dreaming, Fitz," said this Doctor. He was standing there with that same sense of easy separation from the rest of the world, save his eyes, same as the day they met. And for the first time that day, Fitz saw His Doctor in him. Next thing he knew he was hugging the Doctor, face pressed to the crook of his neck, holding on so tightly he was amazed the Time Lord could still breathe. And he knew that he was crying, and that it was undignified, and that blokes didn't cry, but he couldn't help it.

The Doctor returned the embrace, rubbing circles on his back until he calmed down. By the time his tears stopped Fitz had ceased crying and started laughing. The Doctor had chuckled too, and patted both his shoulders, informing Fitz of their plans to go get a drink. He agreed to tag along, stuffing his nicotine-stained hands in his coat pockets and heading back in the direction of the pub.

Amy had linked arms with him, grinned conspiratorially and asked for any dirty secrets about the Doctor that he knew and they didn't. Fitz was caught off guard, but quickly and happily started saying something about a stuffed giraffe and an amoeba creature from Wirigax 4 – until the Doctor interrupted him, shouting that he had been set up and those pictures were fake.

When they reached the pub and entered the bartender had run up to them, wanting to make sure Fitz was all right. Oh, it wasn't that he cared, of course. He never really like Fitz, always thought of him as riff-raff, trouble. He just didn't want to lose one of his best customers. Fitz waved him away and guided his group toward one of the more secluded booths at the back. The bar was all well and good when he was on his own, watching the telly, but any conversation with the Doctor would have to be out of earshot lest they wind up committed to a loony bin.

The Doctor and Fitz shuffled into their seat and Amy declared that she and Rory would go get drinks for the three of them, and a diet coke for the Doctor – apparently this Doctor couldn't stand alcohol. Shame, really. He was hilarious when smashed.

Once they were gone Fitz looked the Doctor up and down, really assessing his new regeneration. "So. Traded in the vests and velvet for tweed and a bow tie, I see. I'm not sure what's worse."

"Hm?" The Doctor glanced down at his own appearance then back up at Fitz. "Well, actually I traded in the vests and velvet for a jacket and jeans, traded the jacket and jeans in for a pinstriped suit and Converse, and traded the pinstripes and Converse in for the tweed and bow tie," he said, looking down and up again. "Besides. Bow ties are cool."

"So you've said," Fitz chuckled. "But cor blimey, Doctor. Three regenerations? You have been busy." Busy would be an understatement, no doubt. Three lives lived since they parted... Fitz was only there for part of one life and if someone had merely said they had been '_busy_' he would have socked them for downplaying it so much. He could only imagine what the Doctor had been doing over... what, a century or more?

The Doctor smiled. "Well, saving the universe and all." And only he could look so smug _and_ humble.

"Has there been..." Fitz paused, and waved his hands 'round a tad, "Anyone?" He was half-dreading the answer, and yet felt like he had to know.

The Doctor blinked. "Sorry? I don't follow."

Of course. Fitz only just managed to refrain from hitting his head on the table. The Doctor really had a knack for this contradiction thing. Only he could be so old, have seen and done so much while still being so bloody innocent. Fitz repeated his abstract hand waving. "You know, have you _been with_ anyone?"

"Oh!" There we go, that's better. However, the Doctor's look of realization quickly turned somber. He shook his head. "No, no. No... Well, I mean I've had opportunities. And it's not like I didn't want to, you know. But losing you... it made me realize how many people I have lost. And how many people I'll lose in the future. I don't age, I change. I don't die, I regenerate. You humans are so fragile and... I don't think I could do it again. Get that attached to someone and lose them."

Fitz remained silent. He felt sorry for the Doctor. It must be hard for him, to live so long and see so many people leave him. And lonely. And yet he felt strangely happy that the Doctor hadn't found anyone else, and he squirmed with guilt.

He was just about to speak up when the Doctor continued. "It wasn't just a jacket," he said. Fitz stared at him, unsure of what the Doctor was talking about. He clarified, "The jacket I traded in the velvet for. It wasn't just a jacket..." He was now talking to his hands resting on the table, a smile ghosting over his face. "It was a vintage leather jacket. You left it in the library."

Fitz's chest tightened as he looked over at him. He couldn't stand it any longer; he leaned over and kissed the Doctor. And the Doctor kissed back. It was nice to see that his snogging technique hadn't changed...

"Oi!" an angry voice called. They quickly broke apart to see Amy and Rory sidling into the seat across from them, putting four drinks down on the table. Rory had the decency to look slightly embarrassed, whereas Amy just looked insulted. "He gets to kiss you and I don't?" she said, and Fitz couldn't help but laugh as the Doctor stuttered, trying to find an answer. It was actually a bit surprising, really, that he wouldn't let Amy kiss him. His Doctor would kiss the nearest living thing every time he got a good idea.

"Yeah, but it's a good thing he wouldn't let you kiss him, right?" asked Rory, saving the Doctor from the trouble of forming a coherent sentence. "Otherwise we might not have gotten married." Amy paused then folded her arms, pouting as she sat down, saying that it was the principle of the thing.

"That barkeep is really weird," she said to Fitz, nodding her head in the direction of the man in question. "He kept glaring at you and telling us to stay away from you."

Fitz rolled his eyes. Typical. "Oh yeah, he absolutely hates me," he said, then leaned forward, saying in a low voice. "He's an alien, y'know. A great tentacled thing, he's just in disguise. Sent here to gather information about the human race."

Rory's eyebrows shot up, threatening to disappear into his hair. "What, seriously?" He and Amy both leaned in, eager to hear more, and though Fitz kept his face deadpan he was smirking inwardly.

"Seriously. No better place for him to work at than a pub, 'cause humans spill all their secrets when pissed. But I found him out, see, and smashed his communicator. Tried to kill me, but I escaped. Now he's stuck here 'til the armada decides to just try invading without his information."

He received a deep sense of satisfaction from their shocked expressions. This was too easy. Fitz hid his smug look by taking a swig from his beer, but his victory was spoiled by the Doctor's comment of, "Oh stop it." He could never fool the Doctor. He always saw right through him, and Fitz was never sure if that made him happy or frustrated or both.

The Doctor leaned back. "So, Fitz, how did you end up on twenty-first century Earth?" He paused, then sat up again, looking concerned. "This is twenty-first century Earth, right? My driving skills seem to have gotten decidedly worse."

Amy mumbled under her breath that that was an understatement.

Fitz snorted. If that was the case he was amazed the Doctor hadn't killed himself by crashing her yet. "Don't worry, you've gotten to where you intended to go for once. Compassion gave me a lift. I asked her to take me back to my own time, but she dropped me off here. Not sure whether that was an accident, or she was just being difficult." Considering this was _Compassion_ it was probably the second one. The Doctor hummed, looking amused and obviously agreeing with him.

Out of the corner of his eye Fitz could see one of the regular bands filing onto the stage. They were an alright bunch, mainly did jazz covers. They struck up a fast-paced song that Fitz didn't recognize, but apparently Amy did. "I love this song!" she exclaimed, slapping the table and downing the last of her drink. She then turned to Rory and grabbed his hand. "Come on, let's dance."

"G'bye," Rory called as he was dragged off into the crowd with a goofy grin on his face. They disappeared from view and Fitz couldn't help but mirror Rory's expression. They seemed like a good pair. Good for the Doctor, too.

"So what do you do in twenty-first century Earth?" The Doctor returned to his relaxed position, looking expectantly at Fitz.

"I work in a record shop." He'd been here five or so years – he thinks, still not quite used to Time passing normally – and had had a few dead-end jobs, but he liked the record store best. It made him feel more at home, like he was back in the 1960's. Granted, he hadn't really felt at home back then, he never fit in, but he fit in much less in 2010.

Fitz had a life now. He had a good job that he actually liked (somewhat), and a few friends. He played gigs in the pub from time to time (he still played under the name Fitz Fortune, even though he doubted anyone cared about his German lineage here). He had a flat. He even had his own bar stool and a tab.

Okay, so it wasn't much of a life, but it was still more than he'd had in 1963. And yet... even when all he owned was his guitar and the clothes on his back, Fitz had more of a life aboard the TARDIS than he ever could have on Earth. Or any other planet, for that matter. Seeing the Doctor again only cemented that fact in his mind.

Time to change the subject. Fitz's life might have been as boring as all hell, but the Doctor's was sure to be interesting. If it wasn't that would be the biggest shock yet. "So how did you meet those two?"

The Doctor got a far away look on his face, saying, "Well, I'd just regenerated, and the TARDIS was crashing." Fitz almost burst out laughing. It's started already. "And I landed right in the back yard of seven-year-old Amelia Pond, smashing her shed."

Fitz listened as the Doctor told of their encounter with Prisoner Zero and the Atraxi. While he spoke, Fitz couldn't help but notice how this Doctor rambled on much like His Doctor did. He probably talked to himself, too. And when the Doctor finished telling him about the Cracks in Time, Fitz couldn't help but marvel at how once again the Doctor had saved the whole of existence and no one even knew.

From there the conversation moved on to recounting old tales of valor from their time together. Well, valor for the Doctor, and more getting captured and being thrown out of bars for Fitz. A fine pair, they had made. The Oncoming Storm and the Oncoming Unpaid Tab.

"How's Romana? Is she still President?"

Fitz regretted asking. The lazy, peaceful atmosphere that had been previously surrounding them drained from the room in an instant. The Doctor tensed and his face hardened. His grip on the edge of the table increased, turning his knuckles white.

Fitz looked into the Doctor's eyes, and really looked this time. The once bright blue orbs were now a dark brown. But... no, that wasn't right. They weren't dark brown. They were brown and _dark_. As though they were overcast with a thousand lifetime's worth of sorrow. Fitz's thoughts turned back to the War, and he wondered just how many Gallifreyans died. Or how few survived. Or if any survived at all.

He had been there the first time. He had been able to hold his hand, and offer him at least some small shred of comfort. The Doctor hadn't let him be there the second time. Gallifrey had burned and The Doctor had been alone. And for so long he thought the Doctor had burned with it.

Neither of them spoke. Fitz entwined his fingers with the Doctor's and that was enough.

A few minutes later a very ruffled and panting Rory arrived back at their booth, leaning against the table for support. Amy soon joined him with her cheeks the same colour as her hair. Fitz snickered. They didn't look so much like they had been dancing as _dancing_.

The Doctor didn't seem to notice, but that was to be expected. "Are you two ready to go?"

"What, already?" asked Rory as he looked mournfully down at his half-finished drink.

"Yeah. You two can choose where we go next. Somewhere fun, hm?" The Doctor stood and Fitz felt as though a lead weight had dropped into his stomach. That was it. The Doctor was going to take off again, and Fitz would probably never see him again. "Walk with us back to the TARDIS, Fitz?"

He swallowed and nodded, standing as well and doing his best not to show any emotion. They headed for the door after Fitz grabbed his guitar case from beside the stage. He was supposed to play today, but... after this he just wanted to go home and collapse on the sofa.

Stepping outside was a major relief for Fitz. The cool breeze that played with his hair helped to quell his upset stomach, and he was finally able to stuff a hand into his pocket and extract a ciggy and a lighter. He lit is hastily with shaking fingers, not caring in the slightest about the glare the Doctor was giving him, and took a long drag.

"I thought you quit," the Doctor said, squinting at Fitz. He crossed his arms, raising an impeaching eyebrow in expectance.

Fitz shrugged, exhaling. "Yeah, well, you should feel honored that your death drove me back to the stuff." That wasn't exactly true. Granted he had been quite stressed and depressed after arriving on Earth which meant he had smoked far more than usual. But he said he'd quit because the Doctor didn't like it, when in reality it was just because he couldn't very well ask for regular shopping trips just to pick up a packet of smokes.

The walk back to the TARDIS was quiet and uneventful. Amy was walking a little ahead of them with the Doctor, the two chatting about where they would go next. Rory kept casting nervous, furtive glances back at Fitz. Either he was smarter than he looked and had noticed his slowly deteriorating mood, or Fitz just made him uneasy. Or possibly both.

The blue box came into sight, parked completely unnoticed on the edge of the busy street. Amy moved to open the door, paused, and looked around suspiciously. "I'm not used to going back to the TARDIS without fighting for my life first," she muttered to herself, then slipped inside, followed by Rory.

That left the Doctor and Fitz alone once again. The Time Lord stood next to his ship, looking at him and wearing that same soft smile. There were a thousand thing that Fitz wanted to say at this moment. But he settled for the words he never got to say; "Goodbye, Doctor."

The Doctor's expression turned to one of mild, obviously fake surprise. "It it goodbye? I never said it was goodbye." He grinned. "Come with me."

Fitz was pretty sure his heart just stopped. The Doctor always ran. If Fitz ever thought he'd see him again, he thought it would be a quick 'Hello' and then the Doctor would take off running again. "You're taking the piss," he said.

"Should I interpret that as a 'yes' or a 'no'?" He was practically beaming now as he turned on his heel and entered the TARDIS, leaving the door open. Without a second thought, Fitz stepped in after him, leaving London behind.

The inside was radically different than what he remembered. He had been expecting the Gothic Victorian interior he had once called home. Instead he was greeted by bright reds, blues and yellows. The console was now on a raised platform under which you could walk – he noted that the floor was see-through and the perfect way to look up skirts. The Doctor probably hadn't even noticed. There was less furniture and decorations and more random lights and wires and knobs and buttons pretty much everywhere. In no way did this resemble a normal room.

He carefully placed his guitar on the floor and took a few tentative steps inside. The Doctor bounded up the stairs and began fiddling with random dials and doing God-knows-what. Fitz joined him, running hand along the console as the TARDIS trilled happily at his touch.

"As you can see I've redecorated," the Doctor said, stating the obvious. "I like it better this way. It's brighter. Neater."

Fitz shook his head. "Don't lie, Doctor. You made it more alien to impress the birds."

The Doctor twiddled a few more controls and they were off into the Vortex.


End file.
